Compromised
by sweetrupturedlight
Summary: A series of related drabbles post 1x05 involving Katherine and her relationship with Major Ross
1. Compromised

Katherine McVitie tentatively entered Major Ross's tent, not knowing what to expect. It had been two nights since they had last been together, the night he had kept his promise to only lay with her on his bed. She felt strange being here now, awkward even, conflicting feelings for him swirling within her. Things had been difficult between them, sometimes unbearably so, but at least her feelings for him had been clear – she hated him and hated every moment with him. She would still rather be anywhere but in his tent at this very moment, but she could not deny the discernible shift in the ground beneath her feet the last time she had left him.

Seeing _him_, his emotions, understanding some of what made him so hard and cruel somehow made it easier to comprehend his actions. Her feelings for him were more complicated now than ever. And she hated that, hated feeling this… _compassion_.

Standing just inside the tent flap, he had not yet seen her. This was unusual, being an extremely perceptive man. This gave her the opportunity to observe him unnoticed. He looked, defeated, she realised with surprise. Sitting on a stool, he had his head in his hands, his shoulders stooped. An uncomfortable, but automatic rush of empathy flooded her, causing her eyes to widen at the unwanted emotion. She must have made a sound, because he looked up, his eyes blank for a moment before recognition dawned.

"Katherine," he whispered. He did not stand, instead he tugged at his collar, looking uncomfortable in only the shirt and his white breeches, the waistcoat by all accounts long discarded.

She swallowed, nervous, shifting slowly. "If you're not well, I could come back another night, Boss."

She prayed he would let her go but he just stared at her for a while, as if he was trying to make up his mind about something.

"No," he said eventually. "Have you eaten?"

Katherine shook her head, her mouth watering and her belly growling at the mere mention of food. Embarrassed, she dropped her head, allowing her hair to partially cover her face. Against her belly, her nails dug into her moist palms.

"There is some food on the desk."

Covertly, her eyes swept over the table and spotted the plate of rice and beans. There was a fair amount – well, _fair_ was relative. The prisoners received a slightly smaller ration.

"Please." His head nodded in the direction of the food and Katherine did not need another invitation. She picked up the plate and using the spoon beside it, scooped some rice into her mouth. He must not have eaten because the meagre portion was completely untouched. When she looked up, he had a small smile on his face and she turned her back to him, embarrassed once again.

He did not say anything else and she stopped chewing, her shoulders tense. Turning slightly, she noticed he was staring blankly at nothing in particular again, seeming to have forgotten her presence.

"Boss?" she asked, hating herself for the query. She had made a pact with herself to not say a word tonight.

"Hmmm?" His eyes found hers again and Katherine saw the one thing she had not expected. _Pain_.

"Are you alright, Boss?" Again the words flew from her mouth and Katherine bit her bottom lip - hard. She felt the sting and it reminded her to be more careful.

His smile was not amusement or mirth. It was desolate, unwittingly touching something inside of her.

"One of my men died today," he began, shifting on the low stool beside the bed. "He was bitten by a snake out in the bush." He grimaced, his jaw tightening. "I cannot imagine a more useless way to leave this world. Especially having come halfway across it to this godforsaken place."

Katherine had no response, so she just listened, fascinated by the play of emotion across his face.

"I promised them, each and every one of these soldiers, that I would see them home to their families. I fail in this endeavour with daily alacrity."

He was genuinely aggrieved, she realised, his pain real, his sorrow filling the confined space.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, biting her lip again to remind herself of her foolishness.

He seemed surprised at her sentiment. But no more so than she was to have uttered it.

"Why?" His dark eyes narrowed as he looked at her and Katherine felt herself squirm uncomfortably.

She shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what to say. But the food was now stuck in her throat. Looking down at the plate, she asked, "You did not eat Boss?"

"I find my appetite has escaped me."

Katherine took the spoon and divided the rice and beans in half. It was less than half really, considering she had already taken two mouthfuls. Taking two quick bites of the small portion on the left, she walked over and passed him the plate. The surprise in his eyes had her lowering her own gaze, staring at his exposed collarbone.

"I am not hungry, Katherine."

"Eating always makes me feel better." Her eyes flicked up to his and away again, her cheeks now blooming with colour. "Boss," she added, clearing her throat.

His hand reached for the plate and she turned away, heading for the bed. Lying down, she turned her back to him and waited for the depression on the other side. She heard the scrape of the spoon across the plate and knew that he had eaten the food given him. Eventually, she felt the mattress depress behind her and tensed. Her heartbeat raced, a roar filling her ears.

She didn't feel fear this time, but her entire body was tense nonetheless. He lay close enough that she could smell him, feel some of the heat radiating off his body. She could not lie; the smell of soap was very pleasant. Senior officers had access to soap, a small luxury that no prisoner was afforded. The sweet, clean scent was heavenly, even emanating from someone who unnerved her so.

Katherine waited, but his words never came, he never moved closer, in fact, he did not stir. After what felt like an eternity, she slowly peeked behind her. The sight left her speechless. Major Ross was asleep, angled towards her, his arms folded across his chest. Slowly, Katherine rose, praying she did not disturb him, knowing she could sneak out unmoved by any additional overtures he might make.

But her curiosity got the better of her. Standing beside the bed, she peered at him, fascinated to see him so relaxed in sleep. Gone was the fierce discipline and displeasure always bubbling so close to the surface. In its wake was just a man – an exhausted, emotionally compromised man. A _lonely_ man. Katherine felt her insides twist again and looked away, her eyes drawn back to the enigma on the bed.

She seemed to wobble. The more she looked at him, the more she inadvertently synchronised her own breathing to the serene rise and fall of his chest, the more she seemed to wobble. Katherine panicked then, confused, disgusted, embarrassed by the sensations she felt stir inside her. She hated him, she reminded herself, feeling tears prick the back of her eyelids as she fled the tent. Of course she hated him.

But why then did she look back? And why for the slightest moment, did his words, _no sex, not until you are ready for it,_ flit through her mind. Katherine hurried towards the beach, towards her Corporal. _He_ loved her. _He_ cared about her. _He_ had risked his life for her.

Right that moment however; Katherine could not muster the sentiment to feel grateful towards Corporal McDonald. Nor could she summon the courage to fling the tiny statue of the Virgin Mary that Major Ross had given her into the ocean.

Katherine McVitie realised that she was indeed compromised. And there was nothing she could do about it.


	2. Confusion

Katherine sat in the blackness, allowing the dark to swallow her and the wind to whip her hair into a frenzy. It calmed her; the smell of the ocean and the feel of the wind as it beat a steady tattoo against her body. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salty air as she leaned against a broad, flat rock, occasional sea spray misting her face. Beside her a lantern shone; a flickering flame, the only circle of orange, yellow light for miles. Opening her eyes, she looked out across the vast nothing of the ocean. She could hear the waves crashing against the shoreline, but could see very little of it.

If she concentrated, she could feel the cold water consume her, the panic she had felt when she realised she didn't want to die, that her despair was not great enough that she was willing to forfeit her life. But for a moment, it had seemed like the easier option. She would no longer be treated like a liar, a toy for mans pleasure, she would no longer be hungry, dirty, alone. Surely, the colony was a version of hell on earth – with its oppressive heat, harsh punishments and restricted movement.

_How dare you do this to me? How dare you prefer death…?_

She frowned. _He_ was a lot like the ocean, she reflected. Dark and dangerous, cruel sometimes, changeable with the ability to swallow a person whole. But then there were moments when she had seen light penetrate the darkest depths of the ocean, allowing the observer to see the beauty that lay beneath. Katherine wrapped her arms around herself. Major Ross was not beautiful like the ocean, she thought. He was a storm, furious, wrecking havoc on everything in its path. She hated him. _She should_, she reminded herself. She _should_ hate him. But today her feelings were complicated, her inability to make sense of them frustrating her endlessly.

_If you wished to burden me with guilt, if you wished me to think I drove you to your death, you have failed there too._

She knew little of men like him, only that they took what they wanted. But she was absolutely sure of one thing – her death _would_ have haunted him, and the guilt would have troubled him for some time. He had exposed himself during their confrontation. She would never forget the way his voice shook with anger, his body taunt, his eyes on fire. It had only been in part because she had dared defy him. The other much greater part of him had been terrified, his pride wounded by the fact that she would rather die than be touched by him.

Katherine sighed, exhausted. She had come to the beach to meet her Corporal. It was her night with Major Ross, but he had fallen asleep as soon as he had lay down beside her. He had been mourning tonight, she mused with a frown. She never thought him capable of such emotion, having only seen his wrath exercised with such zeal. His pain had touched her. Proving that she was likely the greatest fool to ever roam the colony.

Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the petite statue of the Virgin Mary that Major Ross had given to her. It fit into the palm of her hand perfectly, the surface of the bauble showing signs of wear. It had probably belonged to someone else, or perhaps it was something he had brought with him from home. He would have no idea of how such an insignificant trinket could mean so much to her. It reminded her of her childhood, of the bible stories her mother used to tell; of Sunday mornings after church... it reminded her of _forgiveness_.

Katherine purposefully straightened her mouth, wiping away any trace of the small smile that threatened to curl her lips upwards as she caressed the fine figurine. He confused her, she realised. Cruel and forceful, then proving himself capable of being kind – generous even - _vulnerable_, just like everyone else. She stared off into the darkness, blind as memories danced before her eyes.

_Is it the sex? If it is, we could refrain… you could come to me, lie with me, talk to me, naked or fully dressed, whatever you wish._

His desperation to continue seeing her was even more puzzling. Removing any sexual overtures from their arrangement, he essentially asked her to lie with him so that he could talk to her. _Talk_. It astonished her – even him, she thought – the intimate nature of his whispered confessions. Katherine shook her head, trying to dispel the vision of his face, the haunting lilt of his voice as it rang through her ears.

Corporal McDonald was a good man. He loved her. She loved him. _Yes, she did_, she reiterated. Then why could she not get the image of a small, dark haired boy who only wanted to help someone out of her mind?

_There have been many times since then that I have felt the urge to show compassion. I've always managed to resist it._

Katherine shivered, brushing at the goosebumps on her forearms. Maybe they weren't so different after all. Major Ross, despite his protestations, just wanted someone to talk to. And she, she wanted to be _believed_. Believed by him, a man of power and authority. Perversely it wasn't enough that her Corporal believed her. Katherine was ashamed to admit it, but Major Ross's belief meant something… it meant _more_. It was irrational, she conceded, that his belief would carry a weight that not even her lovers could. But she felt it; she recognised it as her truth, no matter how foolish.

In the distance she heard the clang of a lantern as it hit the rocks. No doubt, her Corporal approached. Katherine stared back at the figurine in her hand and sighed. _How could she feel so changed after just one conversation?_ Or perhaps it had been building for so long she had scarcely begun to realise it. Looking back in the direction of the sound, Katherine saw a faint flicker of light in the distance. Her Corporal deserved better.

She had lied to him, omitted the truth of her interactions with Major Ross because there was something private about the confidence he had established between them. It had felt… disloyal somehow to speak about it. _Disloyal_. She snorted at the absurdity, the sound lost on the wind.

A whore. Major Ross saw her as a whore. _Whom he shared private and intimate details with_, her conscience whispered. Katherine shook her head, her hair flying with the action. She owned him nothing. And yet, the truth was plain. It had been some warped sense of loyalty that had made her sensitive to the memory he had shared with her.

With regret, Katherine picked up her lantern and turned away, scrambling around some rocks and up the other side. She couldn't face her Corporal, not when she felt the forbidden, unwanted attraction for another permeating through her body. He would wait for her in the cold, and she was sorry for it. Katherine hated herself for the deception, but she could not shake the unwanted feelings stirring within her breast. Lifting her skirts, she hurried, mingling into the shadows.


	3. Confrontation

For the next month Katherine visited Major Ross's tent three times a week. Sometimes he would tell her stories of his childhood, his parents, about his sister who was married and lived in London, of his travels and once even, he told her about a woman he was betrothed to, but who had died of typhoid before their wedding. For her part, she listened mostly in the beginning, but like a baby coaxed from sleep, she became engaged, interested and sometimes, asked questions. He never asked her questions though; it was as if he did not want to spook her back into their previous state – that is, when she gifted him with absolute silence.

He never asked whether she received his gift. But then again, she carried it on her person always, tucked safely into the pocket of her skirts. He would never know how much it meant to her and how much it restored some of the faith and hope she had lost since coming to the colonies.

Major Ross she learned, was capable of humour. On occasion, he even laughed at himself. The sound of his laughter had initially been foreign, so unexpected, but disarmingly agreeable. The first time she had twisted to stare, quickly turning her back when she saw the evidence of his mirth. But her position on his bed had slowly changed over the weeks that followed until now, she no longer lay turned away from him. Instead, she lay on her back, as did he.

Major Ross always laid the same way, on his back, his arms folded over his chest. He went to great pains she realised, to set her at ease. But at some point, Katherine recognised she didn't mind being so close to him. She wasn't afraid anymore. _She was intrigued_. While she still stared mainly at the draped fabric suspended from the top of the canvas tent, it was easier now to surreptitiously glance in his direction, or to catch his movement out of the corner of her eye. For the most part, he was incredibly amiable, she was loathe to admit. They seemed to establish a kind of rhythm to their interactions. She would arrive just after nightfall, they would share his food – split down the middle of his plate – and then they would lie down and he would talk.

The first time Katherine had laughed she was mortified, trying hard to stifle the giggles that continued to press against her breast until she thought she would burst. Curling into a ball, she had stiffened, hoping that the rigidity of her body would stop her shoulders from shaking. He must have noticed, but he said nothing. He had laughed of course, laughed at himself, but he had not forced her to acknowledge her own weakness.

Thereafter however, it was as if he silently challenged himself to tell her amusing tales, to see whether he could expose the kink in her hardened armour. It did not take long before one giggle met another. Weeks later, Katherine found herself less guarded with her smiles, more generous with her soft laughter.

It became easier also, she realised, to volunteer information about herself. She told him small bits about her childhood, her parents, her siblings. They had grown up poor and she had had very little education. What she knew she had been taught by the mistress of one of the houses she had worked in. That is, until the act that led to her wrongful incarceration.

When fear was removed from the equation, it was easy for her to notice other things... his smell – something she couldn't ignore even before. But being among convicts whose main odour was compounded sweat and toil, it was no struggle to lay beside a man who smelled only faintly of sweat on occasion and mainly of soap. From the corner of her eyes she noticed his strong, capable hands, veins running prominently across the back and up his forearms. She noticed the broad expanse of his shoulders, lightly corded with muscle. She even watched him shave once when he had not yet completed the task as she arrived. But mostly, she noticed the way his voice would change, deepen, when he spoke to her. The way he no longer referred to her as a "thing" and how when she dared to, his eyes were soft and warm when he looked at her.

Katherine felt the pull towards him more keenly with each passing night they spent side by side. She was careful not to spend more than a few hours with him, always leaving before midnight. But the more relaxed she became, the easier it was to succumb to the call of slumber as his words wove a seductive spell around her. Eventually, she lost the battle and Katherine did the one thing she had vowed never to do – she spent the night.

Stilted movements woke her and she slowly surfaced. Aware that her head lay on a soft pillow, her eyes flung open and she sat up straight, looking around with confusion. She was still in her blue dress she noted, but she was under a light sheet. Beside her, there was an indentation on the pillow where Major Ross had lain. But he was no longer beside her. Instead, he shrugged into his jacket, turning from the mirror at her gasp of abject astonishment.

"Katherine. I did not mean to wake you."

Words failed her as her throat went dry. _Had she spent the night?_ Of course she had. What a silly question.

"Wake me?" she croaked. "I usually rise before dawn, Boss." A reminder that she was a convict and he an officer in Her Majesty's army. They were used to vastly different routines.

"I know," he said softly. "Which is why I thought you might appreciate the opportunity to..." His words trailed off and she saw two dark spots appear high on his cheekbones. For a man who constantly reminded all and sundry that convicts were not people, he seemed to care a great deal about her wellbeing. Uncomfortable with that reality, Katherine bit her lip and slid from the bed. She still had on her boots. She sheets were a muddy mess.

"The bed-"

He shook his head. "Do not trouble yourself. I did not want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful." Their eyes met and his were soft again. Katherine tried to look away but found it increasingly difficult. With additional reserves of self preservation, she looked to the floor.

"May I go now, Boss?"

"If you wish."

She hesitated a moment beside him as she passed, their shoulders barely touching. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She felt his eyes on her as she flung herself from the tent, moving as fast as her limbs could carry her. She had wanted to move closer to him, to breathe in his clean smell from closer quarters. Shocked and appalled, Katherine kept moving, heading towards the beach. She barely made it there when she saw her Corporal waiting at their rock.

"Katherine!" he called, moving towards her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine-"

"What happened?" he demanded. He seemed distraught, his hands roaming over her to make sure she was not maimed in any way.

"Nothing. Nothing happened." He frowned and she licked her lips. She did not want to hurt him for the world, but knew that he would be.

"You stayed the night then? Of your own free will?" he asked in disbelief.

She nodded slowly, unable to meet his eyes, guilt eating at her insides.

He took a step back and she did not stop him. "Did he...?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "No." She tried to sound normal. Katherine lifted a hand to try and soothe him but it fell to her side.

"So you _just_ spent the night?"

"I fell asleep, that's all. We just slept."

"You _just_ slept?" he echoed in disbelief. "Might as well have had him then!"

Katherine took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger that rose to match his own. "This is the second time you allude to the fact that it would be better if I had sex with him. He did not touch me. Is that not better?"

"Is it not worse?" he countered. "You whisper in the intimacy of his bed, you laugh at his stories." At her surprised look he continued. "You don't think the men do not take every opportunity to taunt me with it? Telling me about how it seems to be no hardship for the woman I love to visit the bed of a man I thought she hated."

Katherine had no defence and so said nothing.

"I risked everything for you. Everything!" he cried. His face was tight, red, angry. She could not blame him. Her feelings for another man were a betrayal more cruel than a knife through his heart.

"I am sorry." Katherine meant it with all her heart.

"What for exactly?"

"For hurting you."

He shook his head, his eyes alight with resentment. "I wish I never fell in love with you, Katherine McVitie."

A part of her broke then and tears filled her eyes. She did love him. Just not in the way he deserved.

"You deserve everything he does to you."

It was a curse and she had no retort because was right. She had made a choice. And whatever happened now, the consequences rested squarely on her shoulders.


	4. Consent

Two nights later, Katherine lay beside Major Ross, the trace of a smile still on her lips after he had told her an amusing tale of his time as a Private in the army. It was hard for her to imagine him as anything other than the commanding officer he now presented as. In the silence that followed, she heard him shift and turned to look at him, her body curving towards him for the first time. He noticed it. So did she. But Katherine did not turn back. Instead, deliberately, she turned onto her side and faced him.

He did not try to hide the surprise on his face. Instead, his gaze fixed solely on hers, he turned too until they lay facing each other, a small distance between them.

"Corporal McDonald has requested leave to attend duties on the far eastern side of the island," he whispered into the dim interior of the tent. "I admit it came as somewhat of a surprise."

"Yes, Boss."

"Yes it was a surprise? Or yes you knew?"

"Yes to both, Boss."

Katherine felt her heart pound as she focused on his collarbone. It was easier than looking at his face or even his eyes. But his hand reached out and gently, so very gently, he raised her chin and forced her eyes to meet his.

"Corporal McDonald has left you here."

"Yes, Boss."

"Why would he do that?"

Katherine swallowed hard, her eyes rising to meet his fully. "Because we- he and I- we ended things, Boss."

"You ended things?" Heat flared in his eyes as he cleared his throat. She would have had to be a fool not to notice the elation on his face.

"Yes, Boss."

"I see."

She licked her lips, needing to explain. "This arrangement... it hurts him."

"Yet you did not fight to make him stay?"

Her heart rate accelerated again. "No, Boss."

He shifted on the bed, readjusting his head on his pillow. "Why Katherine?"

She hesitated only a moment. "My parents loved each other. And because of that love, my siblings and I were raised in a happy home. But the older I became, the clearer it was to me that they loved each other as friends, best friends, but not as lovers. Somewhere along the line, things had changed. The longer they stayed together, the distance between them grew, as did the bitterness." Katherine bit her lip, embarrassed to be confessing such intimate details, afraid of what his reaction might be. "Sometimes love isn't enough. I could not love him in the way he needed me to."

"And how was that?"

"With my whole heart." Her eyes fixed on his, refusing to look away, even though her face flamed.

His hand reached out and cupped her cheek. Her eyes closed for a minute, leaning into his touch. Gently, he moved forward until their faces were close, their breath intermingling.

"I promised it would be your choice," he said, his voice rough, his breathing elevated. Her own had risen, her chest expanding and contracting with anticipation and desire. Her head fairly swam with it, her entire body fizzing with tension.

"It is, Boss," she whispered, pressing closer until almost nothing separated their lips.

"Not until you are ready for it." He nuzzled his nose against hers.

Katherine raised her hand, a thrill passing through her as she caressed his face, her fingers sliding into his hair. She watched his eyes close as if he was in pain and she savoured the sway she had over him.

"And if I am ready for it?" she asked. They were both panting now, as she turned their previous conversation into her unequivocal consent.

His lips pressed to hers fleetingly as he aligned their bodies, pressing her back gently until he lay on top of her. His movements were slow, cautious, as if he still expected her to change her mind. But Katherine did not object and her hands and eyes told him so.

"So be it." His lips crushed to hers and Katherine opened to him willingly. The kiss was not gentle, it was passionate, rough, thrilling. Arching into him, his hands grazed her breasts and she broke apart, gasping for air as she moaned. His lips trailed a fiery path down her throat, dipping as far as her bodice would allow. His lips were back on hers, his tongue duelling expertly with her own.

Katherine's arms wound around his neck, one hand fisting in his hair. The passion between them was uncontrollable, stronger than she could ever have imagined. Lips she had once turned from she now pressed against, demanding more, giving in equal measures.

"Katherine, I feel we will combust and expire in a ball of flames."

She gasped as her bodice was tugged and her breasts exposed, the pebbled peaks immediately engulfed in his warm mouth. Katherine felt her sanity flee as pleasure coursed through her entire body. Her senses felt heightened, sensitive, her body craving his touch as it always craved nourishment.

"Boss-"

His lips cut her off, kissing her with such searing intensity, her legs wrapped tightly around him.

"Robert," he gasped in-between mind numbing kisses. "_Robert_."

There was no time for surprise at the allowance. Katherine tugged at his shirt, wanting to touch him, needing them both to be without the confines of their clothing.

"Robert," she breathed. For a moment, he stopped moving, his eyes capturing hers. It seemed to Katherine that nothing and no one existed outside of that moment. They were the only people on earth and this was the only thing that mattered. When his lips claimed hers, the kiss was soft and sweet and she felt the emotional weight of it settle upon her.

_She was in love with him_, she realised as she kissed him back with fevered intensity. _She had fallen in love with him._

Soon she was naked and writhing beneath him, her body yielding and supple. He positioned himself between her thighs and thrust, causing her body to bow off the bed, her thighs spreading to accommodate his bulk.

"Katherine," he gasped between thrusts, his harsh breathing ringing in her ears. His lips caught hers, holding for a moment before he asked, "do you see me?"

Katherine frowned, unsure for a moment what he meant. She looked into his eyes and comprehension dawned because she recognised the boy from Minehead – the one who had tried to do the right thing.

"I see you, Boss," she whispered, drawing him close and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. _Boss_ in this context was an endearment. "I see you," she reiterated as his pace increased and they were both pushed over the edge.

Katherine had never imagined – based on how their relationship had started - that she might find herself sprawled across Major Ross's chest, content to have him lazily comb his hands through her hair. She never imagined that she would have the freedom to place a kiss across his heart or lean over and press her lips to his own. She never imagined that she would willingly invite his kiss, initiate it and sigh with pleasure when their bodies joined. She never imagined that she would see a hard man yield, see compassion return to his existence and bask in the glow of his affection.

She never imagined that the colonies might yield something she would grow to love. But it did. And she did


End file.
